“I am lost in unconquerable desire; there is nothing left but everlasting tears. Let them flow, let them flow unceasingly. But they can never extinguish the fire that burns me. My heart rages; it is torn in pieces, this heart where life and death meet in a horrible combat.” “I have lost the universe, I have lost myself, I who until now have been the favourite of the gods; they have put me to the question, they offered me Pandora, rich in treasure and still richer in perilous seductions; they made me drunken with the kisses of her mouth, which gave me its sweets; they have torn me from her arms, and have struck me with death.” Goethe concealed his elegy for some time, guarding it as something sacred, but eventually handed it over to Eckermann. Poetic creation soothed his mind only for a time. His nature demanded some more efficacious consolation. A few weeks after the separation he began to complain bitterly of the absence of the Countess Julie von Egloffstein, whom he wanted very much. “She cannot know what she is keeping from me and what she makes me lose, nor can she know how I love her and how she engrosses my mind.” He derived a little comfort from the visits of Madame Szymanowska, whom he admired “not only as a great artist, but as a pretty woman” (Eckermann, Nov. 3, 1823). “I am deeply grateful to this charming woman,” he said to the chancellor, “for her beauty, her sweetness, and her art have soothed my passionate heart” (Bode, p. 151). He also renewed his relations with Marianne Jung, the retired actress and dancer. “When Goethe had to turn his thoughts from Ulrique, the image of the pretty owner of Gerbermühle again occupied his mind. A visit to her, and intimate correspondence with her, restored peace to his heart so greedy of love” (Bielschowsky, vol. ii, p. 487). His devotion to Ulrique was Goethe’s last acute attack of love; but until the end of his days he felt the need of being surrounded by pretty women. As director of the theatre, he came in contact with many young women who wished engagements. He confessed to Eckermann that he required much strength of mind to resist feminine charms which tempted him to be unjustly favourable to the prettiest of those who sought employment. “If I allowed myself to fall into an intrigue of gallantry, I would become like a demagnetised needle as soon as the girl found a real lover” (Eckermann, March 22, 1825). His daughter-in-law’s sister has related that Goethe liked to have young girls in his study whilst he was at work. They had to sit quietly, neither working nor talking, often a difficult task for them (Bode, p. 155). Even on the last day of his life, whilst in delirium, he cried out, “What a pretty woman’s head with black curls on a black ground” (Lewes, vol. ii, p. 372). After uttering several other more or less incoherent phrases, he drew his last breath.